


If You Will Stay with Me Here (I'll Love You)

by venilia



Series: Home is Where the Heart is [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venilia/pseuds/venilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything goes still.</p><p>“What?” Arthur says, slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Will Stay with Me Here (I'll Love You)

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by [dialectical](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dialectical/pseuds/dialectical), who is a superninja. Shh! Don't tell anyone!

Everything goes still.

“What?” Arthur says, slowly.

Eames sighs, breaking the tension. Arthur watches as he slumps back against their -- Arthur's -- counter so that his body is one graceful, tired line: head resting on cabinet, arms loosely folded, shoes just touching Arthur's.

"I don't want this," he repeats. "I don't want to only get part of you anymore. I give the impression that I'm a playboy. That's just fine. I like one night stands. But we've known each other for six years now, Arthur, and we've been sleeping together for months." He sighs, scrubbing at his face. "I'm not cut out for this."

Arthur blinks, stupidly. "You're not cut out..." he says, "for a no-strings relationship. Seriously?"

Eames’ head snaps up. He leans into Arthur's space, close enough to kiss.

"Yes, seriously. I fucking hate this, darling. I hate coming back here, cooking dinner, fucking you, kissing you goodnight, and then waltzing back out again to go see other people like this isn't home."

"We've only lived here for a month-" Arthur starts.

"Oh, that's not the point and you very well know it!" Eames interrupts him. "I mean _home_. You and me."

Arthur swallows. There's a little tremor-y feeling in his gut. It might be hope.

"I _hate_ seeing other people," Eames continues, "Pretending to want them anymore. I don't. I only want you. Please, Arthur."

"Are you. You're asking me to live with you?" Arthur says.

Eames looks down at their shoes. "Yeah," he says, quietly. "Just me. What if... Arthur, what if this was an exclusive relationship?" When his eyes come up to meet Arthur they're nervous but patient. Fond.

"We," Arthur clears his throat. "Uh. We could do that, I guess. If you want." He's suddenly got Gene Kelly tap dancing on a rainy street in his head. If Arthur knew how to tap dance he would probably reenact that scene on a dry, São Paolo afternoon. He wouldn't even be sorry.

Eames smiles, and Arthur can see the relief washing over him.

"I do want," he says. His lips brush Arthur's. Arthur can feel the rumble of Eames' words in his own mouth. Somehow it's sweet more than sexy. Intimate.

He pulls back an inch. "We've not been, been dating-" not the word Arthur would choose, "for a very long. I mean, it's early days. But,"

Arthur kisses him gently.

"But," Eames says when the kiss ends, "we've been flirting since we met. I _know_ you, Arthur." He nuzzles their noses together. It's unforgivably sentimental. It's a lover's gesture. Arthur nuzzles back.

"We've been flirting since before we met," Arthur says. The first he ever heard of Eames was when Tellecorp Limited hired Arthur to gather intel on him. Arthur had thought it was going very well until the trail had suddenly gone cold. Arthur picked the hotel room lock and went with his gun out, ready for anything but hoping for Eames to be out somewhere so that Arthur could have a nice long rifle through his belongings. Instead the room was empty except for a post-it note on the headboard: _Nice try._ ☺

Eames chuckles with his lips against Arthur’s. The deep tones make Arthur's teeth hum. Eames suddenly breaks away, bringing his hands up to cup Arthur's face. He looks Arthur straight in the eye.

"It's you, Arthur. You're it. I think," He's blushing. "You're the one."

Arthur smiles at him. It's a big, dopey smile. He doesn't feel ridiculous because this is Eames. Because he's so fucking happy.

"Oh," he says. "Good."

"Yeah? Good," Eames smiles back, just as dopey. They grin at each other like fools.

"We should have sex," Arthur says. "Drunk sex. I could blow you."

Eames laughs happily. "I'll find the wine." He turns to rummage through he cabinets, and Arthur can't help himself, loves that he _can_ do something so possessive now: He presses his head to Eames' shoulder blade, sweeps his arms up around Eames, around his boyfriend. Breathes in Eames’ scent.

"I kind of love you," he whispers. He doesn't believe in saying things; he believes in action and loyalty. But he wants Eames to know.

Eames breathes. They let the moment spin out.

"Sixty-nine," Eames suggest, lowly.

"Ok," Arthur says. They take the bottle of Merlot -- the good one, the one Arthur was going to gift to Cobb -- and they go to bed.

Eames stays.


End file.
